


The City's Call

by FiKate



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: Boarding School, Case Fic, Established Relationship, Gen, New York City
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-14
Updated: 2012-12-14
Packaged: 2017-11-21 03:13:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/592807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FiKate/pseuds/FiKate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack and Rebecca are called into a case at Somersby Academy, a boys' boarding school just north of New York City, where they have to figure out what Artifact is making the boys act like addicts.</p><p> </p><p>  <i>“I don’t want to miss anything, any connection, that’s what we’re doing. Reaching out and finding things and yeah, sometimes that means we go looking down in the City, but it’s the City. We’re allowed.”</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	The City's Call

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Phantom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phantom/gifts).



Rebecca had enjoyed being a school teacher, there were certain challenges to it, but the points when she was able to shut the door and discuss the beauty of words with her students made it rather worthwhile. She just happened to like her work at the Warehouse far more, because not only was there Jack, but every day promised something extraordinary. It was just when she walked into the main hall of Somersby Academy, being a teacher didn’t seem that far away. She had never taught anywhere this elite, but from the glances of the boys in the hallway, it probably wasn’t too different. The secretary gave them a long look up and down over her spectacles before nodding as they passed inspection. “The Head will see you now, Mr. Secord and Miss St. Clair. Go right through.”

Getting to the Head’s office required going up some rather impressive stairs to a room with a conference table, two large leather chairs and the Head, Mr. Aubrey sitting behind a desk almost as large as the conference table. Rebecca could see Jack almost rolling his eyes, it was all too ‘let us impress you’ for his tastes, while she found it sad. Students didn’t need to be intimidated, they needed to be nurtured and taught. Headmaster Aubrey had a warm voice that sounded as if they were the people he most wanted to talk to at the moment. “Agents, thank you for coming out this way. I’m certain that you’ll find that whatever’s causing the trouble is nothing more than some students taking risks they shouldn’t. I didn’t like to call anyone in, but there are times when even those in charge must admit they don’t know enough. You came highly recommended to me by a friend on the Hill, who said you’d helped to solve a problem of his. Now I’ve arranged for you to talk with a few students and faculty. I chose the ones who have been most involved with the difficulties. Mrs. Dearheart downstairs with get you in touch with them and then I do hope you will join me for dinner tonight.”

Rebecca answered and inwardly smiled at the surprise on the Head’s face. “Thank you, we will.”

Jack gave one of his sardonic salutes before they left the office and went down to the secretary and a nervous looking student who looked like he had just had a rather major growth spurt. “There you are. This is Gerald Scott, who can explain to you some of what’s been going on.”

Gerald adjusted his tie and tried to look in control, but he seemed to have an extra restlessness. “Right, um, there’s a good place to talk in the Skeller, we’ll just go there.”

Before they had a chance to even nod, he set off, glancing about as if trying to see everything and constantly touching something in his pocket.

As they walked to a building across the Quad, Jack whispered to her, “He looks like an addict.”

She didn’t get a chance to answer as they were led into a dark room that was clearly trying to do a good impression of a New York City coffeeshop, but the architecture was working against it. Everything was a little too clean and nice to make it work.

Gerald gestured to a table and grabbed a pot of coffee and some mugs before sitting down, still glancing around, his gaze darting from one place to another; his fingers seemed to be itching to do something. As Gerald didn’t seem ready to say anything and instead kept downing his coffee and Jack broke the silence. “Look, we’re not here to get anyone into complications. We just want to find out what’s wrong. Can you tell us?”

“There’s nothing to tell. They’re all just worried because we’re getting to the marrow of life and they aren’t. No one’s been hurt, we’re just living the way we’re supposed to be living.”

Jack sipped his coffee and watched Gerald, then said, “The marrow of life, that sounds like a quote.”

“Thoreau, Jack, but Thoreau was a man who preferred to contemplate life, he wished for stillness. You don’t look still, Gerald,” Rebecca said as she leaned forward with a frown.

“I don’t want to miss anything, any connection, that’s what we’re doing. Reaching out and finding things and yeah, sometimes that means we go looking down in the City, but it’s the City. We’re allowed.”

“But it seems to be interfering with not just you but the rest of the school. What are you doing down there in the City?”

“Nothing, we’re just living as we’re supposed to live. Look, we’re not doing anything wrong and I have to get to class.” Then he stood up, leaving behind a small flurry of little papers as Jack and Rebecca stared after him.

Once it was clear that he wasn’t coming back, they left the Skeller and walked until they found a bench that faced the Hudson; it was a view the school was proud of. Jack had collected the papers. “They’re all names with lists of emotions and places next to them, nothing else. I don’t understand this. These kids are going into the City and staying up late here, it’s hurting their school and their lives but I don’t see why yet. Something’s driving them. I’ve seen soldiers and addicts with that same drive to their fix or get the job done at any cost.”

“That’s normal among these kinds of students, though. They’re pushed to be the best of the best, that’s who they are. The way he was talking wasn’t that kind of language. He was quoting Thoreau and these lists feel familiar but I can’t remember from where. I think we need to try and observe these boys as this isn’t going to be a simple case.”

“They have a guest house here, don’t they?”

“Yes, they do and we’ll be staying in it. It’s right there - good, not too far from the dorms which are there and there.”

“We should go get settled in and see about meeting the residential staff. I’m surprised we haven’t met them yet.”

“From the write-up, it looks like one of them might be involved, but is someone who’s old and trusted. His name’s Arthur White and he’s been here for most of his life. He teaches literature.”

“Then he sounds like your kind of conversation.”

Rebecca smiled and leaned against him. They had a few moments before they needed to return to the job and the view was beautiful.

At the entrance to Oxford House, a man in a rumpled tweed suit with glasses perched on his nose greeted them. “Oh hello, you’re here because of the trouble, aren’t you? I’m Arthur White and supposed to tell you about what’s going on with the boys. We should have time for some tea or coffee before dinner. The bells have a way of ringing just as my tea is perfect so I’ve learned to allow more time than I need.”

The front hallway had a bulletin board covered with signs about clubs - as well as handwritten notes of poetry and names. Arthur was going towards his apartment right off the main hallway; that gave Rebecca a chance to nod to Jack, who nodded and took one of the notes down off the board. As he did, a boy came down the stairs and rushed towards him. “Have you heard it as well?”

Arthur turned but Rebecca smiled at him and moved him on as Jack turned and said, “Heard what?”

“The City and its call. It beats and flows in all of us. You must have heard it. Everyone should, it changes everything.”

“No, I haven’t yet. Come tell me about how you found out about this call.”

“Yes, over here.” Jack almost pulled away when the boy actually took his hand and led him to a window seat but he followed. There was a gleam in the boy’s brown eyes, which seemed to be looking beyond to something only he could see. “It’s always been there, in the pounding of my blood and the clatter of the train as it goes to the City. Then when you’re there, it’s all you can hear but I have to remember it. It has to be remembered, because living is living but the words go on.”

“Who are you remembering it for? Is that why everyone’s writing these notes?”

“They’re not just notes, notes are for class and not failing tests. These are maps. Maps to life.”

“Could you show me how to read them?”

That question stopped the flow of words and the boy fidgeted, tucking the notes away in his pockets and adjusting his tie. “I don’t know if I should, if you don’t know already. I’ve got to go. I have an appointment.”

Before Jack had time to tell him to stop, the boy was gone, running out the front door of the dorm. He sighed and headed to the apartment, where he could hear Rebecca and Arthur White deep in discussion about poetry, particularly the challenges of Milton, who never found an allusion that he didn’t like. It seemed a shame to disturb them, so he leaned against the door frame and watched Rebecca do what she did best - make sense of the world.

The dinner with the headmaster at the high table was boring - there really wasn’t another word for it. Jack didn’t yawn but found it difficult and kept glancing at Rebecca, who had managed to get a seat next to Mr. White; they were continuing their conversation from before. He was stuck beside a Latin teacher who droned on about connections between the modern military and _The Aeneid_. There were some decent points but nothing new. As he ate, he kept his eyes on the boys and the cluster near the back table, who all seemed ready to jump and leave. As they’d settled into their rooms before dinner, he’d noticed a spot that could work for a stakeout. When he next met Rebecca’s glance, he smiled at her and she waved her hand with a smile - if he could find a way to leave, he could.

Both their chances came soon as the headmaster wasn’t in a talkative mood and once he left everyone else could leave. Jack left first, not far behind the group of boys who had all but run from the dining hall to their rooms. He knew they couldn’t go anywhere yet - there was a bed check and curfew - but they stayed together. Once the boys had entered their dorm, Jack went back to meet Rebecca as she came out of the dining hall with Mr. White, who parted from them. As they made their way back to the guest house, Jack gestured to a window where a few boys were watching them from behind a curtain.

Within the hollow of a conveniently shaped bush, Jack watched the dorm door as Rebecca watched from her room’s window. Though she wanted to join him on the stakeout, it made more sense for her to wait above as she would have the better vantage if something changed. Midnight passed with the tolling of the school bell when they finally started to appear, bundled up figures coming from side doors and passing something from hand to hand. It was too small for Jack to see but it had to be the Artifact with the care they gave it. He hooted and saw the curtain open and close to let him know that Rebecca had heard. Then he stole into the darkness after the boys, who were headed off campus and had a nervous energy about them that he could see from a distance. He needed to get what they were passing away from them and neutralize it, but they outnumbered him and he didn’t want to have to hurt them as they were just kids under the influence of an Artifact. Stopping them before they left campus would be best, but he hadn’t had time to find where they were going to avoid the men at the school gates. There should have been time, but this kind of case required getting on the good side of those in charge even if that cost important scouting time.

Now he was feeling that loss as he went from shadow to shadow following the boys, whose nervous energy kept them from being as quiet as they meant to be. They kept shushing each other and then bursting out with whispered discussions of people and places. After a pause to stare into a stream that ran through the campus, they went into the woods surrounding the school and Jack wondered how they were planning to get to the station. From the school map, those woods didn’t abut the town; they likely had a path or something else planned. He didn’t want them to leave the school grounds and followed them, but this would complicate his plan to try and confront them before they left. Instead he would have to look for another good point to divert them and get the Artifact.

At one point when they stopped to pass something around, he had a chance to get first beside and then in front of them, under cover of the forest. He couldn’t make out what they were holding; it almost looked like a cigarette but they didn’t light it. They were laughing and couldn’t seem to keep still as he stepped in front of them, keeping his eyes on what they passed. “Hello boys. What are you doing out past curfew?”

At his voice, they froze. The boy holding the Artifact clenched it and all the other boys started talking at once, making excuses. One yelled, “No, not so hard, it’ll break!”

The yell made the boy drop it and Jack dived for it; he had a static bag ready and tucked the piece of pencil away. As soon as the Artifact was away, the boys scattered and ran as Jack rubbed his elbow - he’d landed on a rock. He made his way back to the school, keeping the Artifact safe in his pocket. He was glad to have it, but there were still a lot of questions to answer. Rebecca met him at the outskirts of the woods and he smiled at her look of worry. “Nothing’s broken and I have it. Where are they?”

“They all scrambled back inside. White peered out of his door but went back inside. He’s leaving this matter to us. I think you gave those boys a good scare judging by how they were running. Now you should get some sleep.”

“Good, they were being stupid and are lucky they aren’t in worse trouble. Sleep, yes, that would be nice. Could they have come out any later?” They walked inside and Jack gave Rebecca the Artifact before falling asleep. She could call the Warehouse and set them to finding out what that pencil was while he rested.

A tolling bell woke him up in the morning, and Rebecca was outside his door with a satisfied smile.

“You know what the Artifact is?” Jack asked as he yawned.

“No, but I think I know where to start. The school was recently given the collection of an alum who seems to have been obsessed with the history of Brooklyn. Students are helping with the organizing and cataloguing. We’re going to have a look at it. Phyllis went to college with one of the secretaries, the one who keeps an eye on donations. After breakfast, she’s going to show us around and see if she recognizes the Artifact.”

He kissed her cheek and made sure the Artifact was secure in its static bag before taking her arm and they went down to breakfast.

When they came out of the dining hall, they started towards the library - another impressive building - and entered into a vaulted space with books and tables. The woman who met them seemed to come out from the books. “Oh good, you didn’t get caught in the after breakfast rush. I’m Ann Troy. Come this way and I’ll show you all of our boxes.”

The library didn’t stop being impressive as they went behind the pretty part and into the halls full of stacks of books and then a room full of boxes. The boxes were organized and a clipboard was resting on top of them. “I’ll be curious to see if any of my student helpers turn up today. It sounds like one of them found and took it. Can I see it?”

Jack pulled out the static bag and Ann carefully took it, moving to hold it in the light. “Do you see our problem? It looks like a pencil, not even a whole one, but they were treating it like a drug,” he explained as he watched her.

“A pencil, yes, but not of recent make. You can tell by how it doesn’t have an eraser and the way it fits together. I grew up near the Dixon Ticonderoga factory and my father worked on the molds. This is from before 1900 and possibly even before 1880, that helps a great deal.” She picked up the clipboard and began pacing as she read through it, “Most of these are papers, he wasn’t as interested in ephemera. The only exception is Whitman, there’s a small box but no listing of what’s in it. That’s strange.”

They followed her as she went through the boxes to find a wooden box that was rather battered, but looked as if it had been made with care, and slowly opened it. Inside were small pieces of paper, newspaper clippings and a few coins. Jack looked in and said, “That looks like my junk drawer.”

“Or what comes out of your pockets,” Rebecca added, “but also someplace that you would expect to see a pencil. And Whitman did love New York City.”

Ann met Rebecca’s eyes and laughed before quoting, “ _Once I pass'd through a populous city imprinting my brain for_  
future use with its shows, architecture, customs, traditions,  
Yet now of all that city I remember only a woman I casually met  
there who detain'd me for love of me,  
Day by day and night by night we were together—all else has  
long been forgotten by me,  
I remember I say only that woman clung passionately to me,  
Again we wander, we love, we separate again,  
Again she holds me by the hand, again I must not go,  
I see her close behind me with silent lips sad and tremulous. I’ve always loved that poem. If that pencil holds any of his passion then I’m not surprised they were clutching it and venturing out beyond what they knew. I wonder if they wrote anything.”

“I think they might have and we can ask them,” Rebecca said. It would be a good way to finish off the case and let the boys know that they weren’t in a great deal of trouble. Whitman had touched their souls and called out to them to explore more.


End file.
